


I Would Rather Hurt You Myself

by AddyBby



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Feels, Blow Jobs, Boyfriends, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Love, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Resentment, Spanking, The relationship is complicated, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Undernegotiated Kink, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, mentions of Jason's death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:21:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26201833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AddyBby/pseuds/AddyBby
Summary: {{ Tim and Jason have been dating for about a year, although neither one of them is very good at communicating their complicated feelings. After a forgotten occasion, Tim realizes that Jason is still holding on to lots of resentment for the third Robin. But what does that mean for their relationship? }}- - - - - - - -Jason eyes him up a moment longer. Then he says flatly, “I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you up good.”“Fuck me up?” Tim echoes, intrigued. Jason’s never said anything like that to his face before. He can’t tell if it’s supposed to be foreplay or a threat. Maybe both.His boyfriend leans forward over the table, too, meeting him halfway. “Yeah, Timmy. I wanna do you really rough. Smack you around like you deserve, you little shit.” Tim’s lips part, surprised, but he finds that he can’t look away from the smoldering intensity in his partner’s gaze. “I wanna give this shitty new Robin the spanking he deserves...put him in his place… And then maybe if he’s good enough -- and if I feel like it -- I’ll make love to my Timmy afterward. How about that?”
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 12
Kudos: 121





	I Would Rather Hurt You Myself

**Author's Note:**

> A Robins fic because I LOVE them and no I'm not writing Kpop fics anymore.

It’s ten past ten when the first glint of sunlight makes its way behind Tim’s eyelids. He squints into the gleam, annoyed, and then rolls over to see what time it is. They must have forgotten to set the alarm! _Shit._ “Jason.” 

There’s no response from his bedmate. No movement either. 

“Jay,” Tim says, a little more harshly. He gives the older boy a hard nudge before slinging the blankets back and rising to sit on the mattress. “Get up.”

“Mm?” The grumpy groan is so muffled it barely makes it past the comforter. 

“Get up. We’re late again.” 

Sounding groggy, Jason asks, “What time is it?”

“After ten.” He hadn’t meant to sleep over. They’d fallen asleep on the couch after a long night of video games. Must have moved to the bed sometime in the night -- he only vaguely remembers. He’s supposed to be at Bruce’s fundraiser by ten thirty to prepare for the media barrage but there’s no way he’ll make it in time now. Not as Timothy Drake-Wayne travels, anyway. 

Feeling more awake, Tim hops up from the bed and hurries to get dressed. He won’t have time to eat anything but there’s bound to be some bougie food at the event. He’s called the Wayne Industries limo service to come get him, completely dressed, and is fixing his hair in the bathroom mirror before the tell-tale sounds of Jason rising can be heard at last. “You’re coming to the Family meeting later, right?” he calls back to Jason. 

“What time?” There’s a harder bite to the older boy’s voice now. Tim would guess it’s nothing more than his standard annoyance when it comes to Batman related activities. Getting together with the whole gang isn’t one of his choice Saturday activities...or any day really. As the adopted heir to the Wayne estate, Tim is very much involved, though. And being involved with Tim means that Jason has to occasionally bite the bullet and attend Family things, regardless of how much he grumbles about it. 

“It’s after the fundraiser. Meet at the Cave at four.” Jason grunts his acceptance from in the kitchen. “Good.” 

As soon as the limo’s arrival pings on his cellphone, Tim rushes out in a flurry, not even remembering to kiss his boyfriend goodbye. 

* * *

The fundraiser is boring, as usual. Although Tim is honored to be the youthful face of Wayne Industries, he can only smooze for so long without wishing to be elsewhere. He had to put extra effort into it today because Bruce wasn’t happy with his lateness. Still, it’s almost one now and he has shaken just about as many hands as he can handle. Something is bothering him, nagging at the back of his mind…

He can’t place it though. 

“Did you get something to eat?” 

Tim startles at Bruce’s voice. How the Bat managed to sneak up on him is a testament to their difference in skill. It makes Tim a little angry if he’s being honest. 

“Yes. I stopped at the refreshments table.” The fundraiser brunch buffet had just about anything that he could want for breakfast, but Tim found himself wishing he’d been able to stay in and eat pop-tarts with Jason instead of having to run out like that.

“Very good,” Bruce says, placid and proper as always. But it’s an act. Tim isn’t looking at him but he can picture Bruce smiling at some benefactor from afar while he speaks, “Jason’s coming today?” 

“He said he would come, so...we’ll see.” There’s always a chance that Jason won’t show, especially considering the flippant way he’d left things this morning. Now Tim’s thinking he probably should have kissed him goodbye or something. 

“Well, I suppose we’ll see then.” Bruce places his hand on Tim’s shoulder for a moment and then walks away. 

Thinking of Jason, Tim gets a funny feeling in his chest. The whole “official boyfriends” thing is still new to them even though they’ve been involved for over a year now. Jason isn’t the easiest person to read romantically, after all. And Tim isn’t used to being in relationships. Neither of them are. 

Every once in a while Tim will crash at Jason’s apartment after a mission. They don’t do much -- just eat and play video games. Occasionally they have sex but mostly it’s accidental and booze fueled. They talk, but not usually about anything too serious. 

Maybe they should start, he thinks, circling back to the refreshment table. The thought makes him nervous but it feels true. They’ve been together-ish for nearly a year, and he’s really starting to feel bad about running out without a goodbye this morning. He hopes that Jason will show up to the meeting later like he promised so that he can make it up to him somehow. 

* * *

The whole Family is gathered and already mid-meeting by the time Jason strolls in with his motorcycle helmet tucked casually under his arm. Bruce glances at the arrival with his usual look of disapproval, but he visibly softens when Dick cries, 

“Jay! You came! Happy birthday!” 

At that, Tim turns pink. Jason’s birthday...he’d completely forgotten! 

“Thanks, Dickie bird,” Jason returns, flashing a handsomely aloof grim. “You guys get me a cake?” 

How could he forget his boyfriend’s birthday? Tim feels terrible. When Jason catches his eye, he feels even worse. He doesn’t look angry or anything but the mere weight of his gaze is enough to make Tim feel like shit. Now he regrets his rushed departure this morning even more.

Sure enough, Alfred produces a cake only a few minutes later and everyone digs in once Bruce’s briefing is over. 

“How was the fundraiser, Timmy?” Jason asks under his breath, getting close to him by reaching over his shoulder for a plastic fork. 

“Boring,” he says flatly. “I wish I stayed with you.” That was never an option but he really feels badly about all this. Maybe if he’d remembered to set an alarm and had time for breakfast with Jay...maybe then he would have remembered that it was his birthday. God! He's a bad boyfriend. 

“Really? The business fundraiser wasn’t fun?” Jason’s sarcasm is somehow grating and light at the same time. “Go figure.” Normally Tim would quip right back at him, but this time he just ducks his head away, feeling sorry. 

He avoids Jason for the rest of the meeting, mingling with the others instead. It’s not until they’re all parting ways that he jogs to catch up with Jason. “Hey, wait!” he says, raising his voice just slightly so as not to alarm the others. Jason doesn’t turn back at the exit. He throws the door open and leaves, barking, 

“What?” 

Tim slips skillfully through the closing door frame to keep up with the older boy. “I’m coming with you.” 

“Don’t you have some event to go to, Mr. Wayne?” 

Tim blinks at his boyfriend’s acidic tone. _Shit. He's definitely mad at me._ “I’m really sorry, Jay. I was freaked out this morning because I was late for the stupid thing--”

“Yeah, whatever.” Jason secures his helmet and slings a leg over his motorcycle, but Tim isn’t going to let him leave so easily. He jumps in the way, arms spread, forcing the vehicle to a screechy halt. “Fuck, Timmy--”

“I’m coming with you. Let me on,” Tim says resolutely. Jason gives him a grim look but he stills the motorcycle long enough for Tim to mount behind him and get a hold around his waist before speeding away. 

* * *

  
  


Jason still looks angry as they plod into his apartment on the other side of town. He doesn’t say anything, he just scuffs off his shoes and stalks into the kitchen to light a cigarette. 

Tim follows a little timidly, still feeling bad. He hovers around the fridge. He watches Jason take several agitated drags until the room gets hazy with smoke. Then he asks, softly, “Did you enjoy your cake?” 

“Fuck off, Tim.” 

A little bit of indignation cuts through Tim’s guilt. “Look, I’m sorry I forgot to say happy birthday this morning! But I’m the one who set up the cake thing. Weeks ago. It was just a crazy morning.” 

“You shouldn’t have been here last night then.”

“What? Why?” 

“Or you should have set your stupid alarm if the fundraiser thing was so important. You're like a whirlwind, Tim, I’m fucking sick of you.” 

“The fuck--?”

“You wanna be Robin? You wanna be the goddamn chosen one, Baby Wayne? Hm? Or you wanna be my boyfriend? Cuz I’m sensing where your heads at. That’s for damn sure.” 

Tim’s mouth falls open, shocked. Jason talks mean all the time and he’s learned not to let it phase him, but something about this time feels more honest. More hurtful. “I’m…” he trails off. Can’t he be all of those things? He’s always known that Jason resented him as the third Robin, but he thought they’d overcome that by now. Eventually he finds his voice again. Meeting Jason’s hard expression, he says, “I had a responsibility to be there this morning. I had to go.” 

“I don’t care about your responsibilities, whether Bats gives them to you or Bruce does. Don’t give a fuck, Tim.”

Tim huffs, getting a little annoyed. “That’s not even reasonable. Come on. You know--

“ _You_ know I’ll take a piss on _Robin_ any day of the week. Knock it off before I get mad,” Jason practically snarls. 

Tim’s face falls. Obviously Jason is far from over his resentment of the BatFamily, and of Robin in particular. He slumps into a chair across from his boyfriend, feeling lost. “But...I’m Robin.” 

Does Jason actually hate him, still? Has he been misreading things all this time?

Jason just scoffs. “No you’re not. You’re Tim Drake.” He catches Tim’s sad, confused gaze and the anger in his face softens slightly. “You’re my Timmy. Right?” 

He wants to be, yeah. But he’s Robin, too. Still, he holds his boyfriend’s gaze steadily and nods. Jason huffs out a heavy sigh and brushes his free hand back through his hair. 

A few moments of awkward silence pass. Neither boy is good at having these kinds of conversations, yet. After awhile, Jason says, “Alright. Forget it. Just...I get mad with all this Bruce stuff. When you’re with me, I want you to be with _me_. And vice versa.”

“Okay,” Tim agrees simply. It’s not an unfair ask. 

“And I don’t want to go to these Family meetings any more. Not regularly, anyway.” 

“Okay.” Frankly, Tim’s surprised at how many Jason actually came to in a row at his request. That alone should tell him enough about Jason’s commitment to their relationship. “But the cake was a nice surprise, right? I asked Alfred to get your favorite.”

Jason finally softens enough to smile a little. “Yeah it was good cake. Thanks, kid.” 

Pleased with the change in tone, Tim leans back in his chair and returns the grin. “Yeah, sure. Happy birthday, old man.” 

A long, smokey exhale fills the space between them and then Jason says, “You get me a present?” 

“Um...the cake. That very yummy cake. And the pleasure of my presence.” 

“Fuck off. Alfred got the cake.” 

“I did pick it out though. And organize everything.” 

“Doesn’t count,” Jason says flippantly. Tim juts out his bottom lip in a mock frown. “Come on. What’d you get me?” 

Besides the cake plan which he organized weeks ago? Nothing. Feeling content that the argument is over, Tim decides to go another route. He gives his boyfriend a suggestive look. “How about you tell me what you want, birthday boy?” 

Something new comes over Jason’s expression. He takes another drag on the cigarette, turning the ember bright orange as he gazes down at Tim through the smoke. “To be honest, I’m a little worked up after all your shit, Timmy. You might not want to play with me right now.” 

Tim isn’t quite sure what that means but the look on his boyfriend’s face makes him both nervous and aroused all at once. “Be a little more specific. I want to get you the right thing since I was a dick this morning and completely forgot your birthday,” he teases.

Jason eyes him up a moment longer. Then he says flatly, “I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you up good.”

“Fuck me up?” Tim echoes, intrigued. Jason’s never said anything like that to his face before. He can’t tell if it’s supposed to be foreplay or a threat. Maybe both. 

His boyfriend leans forward over the table, too, meeting him halfway. “Yeah, Timmy. I wanna do you really rough. Smack you around like you deserve, you little shit.” Tim’s lips part, surprised, but he finds that he can’t look away from the smoldering intensity in his partner’s gaze. “I wanna give this shitty new Robin the spanking he deserves...put him in his place… And then maybe if he’s good enough -- and if I feel like it -- I’ll make love to my Timmy afterward. How about that?”

Tim blinks through the smoke, speechless. He has no idea what to say. Spanking? Smack him around? He can’t decide if he’s turned on or disgusted by the thought -- mostly because he isn’t quite sure how serious Jason is being. Is he actually mad at him? Does he want to really _hurt_ him? What is he saying?

Jason must see the lostness growing in Tim’s eyes, because he reaches out a hand to grab his forearm. “Tim.” 

“Hmm?”

“I’m not gonna kill you or anything. Don’t worry.” 

It was supposed to be a joke but it goes right over Tim’s head. “But you want to hurt me, though?” 

“Not bad.” 

Tim’s confusion is tipping more toward the side of concern. He’s starting to get the idea. Jason’s talking about some rough sex, and that in and of itself would be ok. He’s the Red Robin. He’s tough. He can certainly take a little friendly roughhousing from his boyfriend. Besides, it’s not like they’ve never wrestled around and fought before...just never during sex. 

No. His real concern is about Jason wanting to actually hurt _Robin_ for real _._ Would it be just sexual play or is this a more serious, deeper seeded issue? He bites the inside of his cheek and meets Jason’s eyes once more, hoping to find the answer in his gaze.

“Do you have your suit here?” 

Tim’s eyes widen. “Yeah...it’s...it’s in my bag.” He never goes anywhere without it, just in case. 

“You wanna put it on?” Jason is back to sounding alluring. There’s a sexy, confident drape to his shoulders that makes Tim hot, but there’s still a threatening glint in his eye that makes Tim wary and stiff. He isn’t sure if he wants to, but he thinks that he’s better do it after his royal fuck up this morning. 

“Okay, fine.” His voice comes out tense and defensive because of the nerves and that makes Jason chuckle. 

“Alright. Hurry up. I’ll be waiting.” 

* * *

  
  


Five minutes later, Tim is still dawdling in the bathroom. He had changed into his Red Robin suit with care, his thoughts slowing him down. Now the fabric is taut over his lean frame. He knows how good he looks in it -- not as amazing as Dick, but pretty great, nonetheless. He wishes that putting this suit on would make Jason even hotter for him, not want to hurt him. 

He looks himself over in the mirror one last time before putting the mask on. _Whatever,_ he thinks. _It’ll be fine. Jason’s not gonna kill me or anything. He said it’d be nice afterward . If this is what Jason wants for his birthday, I at least owe him that much after completely forgetting about it today._

With one last sigh, he opens the bathroom door and steps back into the hallway. 

Immediately he is grabbed -- strong hands snatching him up by the hair, by a vice grip on his upper arm -- and hauled across the apartment toward the bedroom. At first Tim yelped and started to fight back, but then he realized that it was his boyfriend. He shouldn’t fight back. _Chill out_ _,_ he tells himself as his feet flounder to stay upright while he’s dragged to the bed. But the fist in his hair actually hurts a lot and he really wasn’t expecting this. 

Then Jason throws him down at the foot of the bed. 

“Well, well, well,” Jason croons down at him. “Look what I found in my apartment--” Tim looks up at his boyfriend nervously through the Red Robin mask. He looks tall, mean, and menacing. He hasn’t seen Jason like this since those first months when he came back from the dead-- 

As soon as the thought strikes him, he pushes it away. He hates to think about how Jason was back then...so haunted and full of hate for them all. 

“--another dumb kid who wants to play superhero.” Jason stretches out a long leg to grind the ball of his foot down over Tim’s crotch. His breath catches in the back of his throat and he squirms uncomfortably, trying to get away from the pressure without an obvious effort. Jason punishes the act with more weight. He rolls his ankle around and pushes with even more force until Tim yelps softly. Then he says, “Get up.” 

Tim glances up at his boyfriend, again, obviously unsure about all of this. 

“Get up, Robin” Jason snaps again. He jabs his toes into Tim’s gut -- not a kick, not really -- just enough to dig in and hurt. Tim falls back, his shoulders bumping against the bed frame. He uses it to rise to his feet. As soon as he’s up, Jason grabs him by the front of his suit and tugs him up until they’re eye to eye. At this height, Tim can barely keep his tiptoes on the ground. Jason snarls right in his face, “You’re not a superhero, _Robin_.” He spits the pseudonym like it’s a curse. “You’re a spoiled brat.” 

Tim opens his mouth to make some retort, just out of habit, but before the words come out he receives an open handed slap to the face. Only after the slap do the words hurt him. He stills and looks away. 

“Spoiled little brat,” Jason repeats. “You need a good spanking, little bird. Bend over the edge of the bed.” 

Tim decides that he doesn’t want to. He wasn’t going to fight back because it’s Jason’s birthday, but being totally submissive doesn’t sit right with him at all and Jason’s words are rubbing him the wrong way. So instead of doing as he’s told, he shoves Jason off in a burst of motion and tries to juke past him. 

To go where? He isn’t sure. He just tries to get away. 

But it doesn’t end up mattering. Jason dives at his ankle, catching it in midair, and Tim lands flat on his face on the carpet. He groans and presses a hand on the carpet to get back up, but Jason doesn’t let him. Instead, Tim is dragged backward through the bedroom by his foot. “Hey!” he complains, struggling to roll over while his body scrapes across the floor. Jason has hiked his foot up high so that he can’t get up. He tries kicking up at his boyfriend but that just makes Jason laugh meanly. 

“You’re asking for it, kid.”

“Let me go,” Tim grits from the floor. He is ignored, grabbed by the neck, hauled up with surprising violence, and smashed face first into the mattress, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Jason straddles him and presses himself up against Tim’s butt immediately so that he can’t try to kick him. 

“Stop struggling, kid. You’re not going anywhere. You’ve got nothing on that last Robin dope, trust me.” 

A little noise comes up in Tim’s throat -- something between frustration and indignation. He is hardly trying, of course. He doesn’t want to fight his boyfriend. But damn, he’s not enjoying this. He knows he’s not the greatest Robin ever. Dick was legendary and Jason was probably better than him, too. But he tries his best which is saying a lot for someone as obsessive as he is. He understands that Jason is bitter about the whole BatFamily construct and he accepts that, but his harsh words aren’t sitting well with Tim at all. 

He considers saying something to that effect, but a new noise brings that train of thought to a halt. There is a metallic jingle as Jason grabs his wrists and pins them down on the small of his own back before clicking a pair of handcuffs on him. He goes completely stiff, feeling really vulnerable for the first time at the feeling of steel on his wrists. He should be able to escape if he tried with all of his might, but obviously he’s not going to do that. He won’t try to hurt his boyfriend. And even if he did...he isn’t sure he’d win. 

_It’s fine_ _,_ Tim tells himself, trying to control his anxious breathing. _This is just a sex thing._ Still, they almost never had sex sober. And never like _this._

“Are you gonna stay still for me now, little bird, or do I need to tie your feet up, too?” 

“Don’t,” Tim grits out flatly. 

“No? You don’t want me to?”

“No.” He’s never been bound hand and foot. Just the thought of being so completely helpless makes him feel a little sick. 

“You know,” Jason starts low and soft. He bends over the expanse of Tim’s thin back to whisper near his left ear. “You’re just as helpless right now as you would be like that. You’re pathetic. You’re not getting away from me regardless.”

Tim grits his teeth, growing angrier every time Jason says something to that effect. _Why is he taunting me like this? Is he trying to make me fight him?_ He shakes the thought out of his head. It doesn’t matter. He’s not going to do that. Instead, he takes a few deep breaths, inhaling the familiar smell of Jason’s sheets. He closes his eyes and thinks about the good times they’ve had here -- thinks about how they love each other. 

And then he remembers what Jason said before all of this started, _“I wanna give this shitty new Robin the spanking he deserves...put him in his place… And then maybe if he’s good enough -- and if I feel like it -- I’ll make love to my Timmy afterward.”_

“I’ll stay still,” Tim vows through a long exhale. “I’ll be good.” He doesn’t like how this submission feels even as he succumbs to it, but he does it anyways. He just wants to make Jason feel good on his birthday and get to the love part afterward. 

“Huh.” 

Tim’s brow flickers against the sheets. Why does Jason sound surprised. No...disappointed? 

“Alright,” his boyfriend says casually. Without any warning, he delivers a hard smack to Tim’s bum. It hurts for a second but not very badly. The fabric of his Red Robin suit protects the flesh a little. 

“When’s the last time you got spanked, _Robin_?” Jason demands, nailing him even harder with a blow to the other cheek. 

Tim has to resquare his hips after that one. “I dunno.” 

_Smack!_ “Then it’s been way too long. No wonder you're soft. The Bat doesn’t even discipline you new ones, huh?” 

“Batman didn’t _spank_ you,” Tim snaps back incredulously. 

“He beat the shit out of Dick and me, you spoiled little shit.” _SMACK!_

Tim’s breath hitches as the sting of that strike sinks in. _Fuck._ Jason’s actually hitting him hard. He didn’t expect that. Maybe five more sets of blows land on his ass, alternating sides. Maybe ten? He isn’t sure. Normally he would count these things but he actually doesn’t want to remember this so he tries not to pay any attention. The burning feeling under his skin increases with each blow until he's stiff all over but never becomes intolerable.

Eventually there is a pause in the spanking where Jason asks, “Do your pants come off in this thing or am I cutting them off you?” 

“Don’t cut them off!” Tim complains, shocked. Bruce would be furious if Tim came back with a dissected suit and no reasonable explanation. 

“Why not? The rich little Wayne-Robin doesn’t want to get his pretty clothes fucked up?” 

_Geez, Jason …_ When Tim speaks again his voice is tense with exasperation. “I’ll just take the suit off if you want it off, now,” he offers.

Jason’s reply shocks him. “Nah. You keep it on. I don’t wanna look at you.” Then one heavy hand slaps on the back of Tim’s head and shoves his face down hard into the mattress while the other flicks out a pocket knife and gets to work separating the lower half of his suit. 

Tim squirms from the waist down and shouts out muffled protests into the sheets, but Jason just chuckles. He can manhandle him easily in this position. "Daddy Wanye-Bucks will buy you a new one. Don't worry. Probably even fancier than this thing," he drawls as he gets to work on the heavy fabric. The feeling of the blade bursting the taut material and separating it from his skin makes Tim go still at last. He doesn't want to get cut. Before long the bottom half of his Red Robin suit is cut away and twisted up around his calves. There are only a few thin scratches left behind, none deep enough to bleed droplets. 

There was no room for underwear under the tight bodysuit -- Jason certainly knew that --and now Tim is naked from the waist down, still bent in half over the edge of the bed. He’s trembling all over now. Not from pain, just from the shock of having his suit ruined like that. How is he supposed to explain that? _What the fuck, Jason?!_

His boyfriend wastes no time letting him think. He returns to the spanking as soon as the knife is pocketed once again. The blows come harder and faster now, snapping hard enough against Tim’s bare backside to drive the pain deep into his muscle. After half a dozen he’s squirming again. By ten there’s a cry building up in his chest and he can’t breathe normally anymore while trying to keep it down. 

“Jay--” he chokes out in between blows. A warning. But the next strike comes anyway and he can’t contain the shout anymore. “AArghhh! _Fuck_ _!_ ” 

He twists his hips to the side with some real force in hopes of avoiding anything further, but Jason won’t stand for it. He grabs the handcuff chain between Tim’s wrists and shoves his hands up high onto his back, wrenching his arms painfully and making him cry out again. 

“Ow! Jason!” This isn’t sexy. This is too far for him. But as Jason leans over him to press his body down in the bed with more of his weight, Tim is stunned to feel the outline of his boyfriend’s erection against his throbbing ass. 

“What? Gonna cry, baby bird?” Jason taunts. He threads his fingers through the back of Tim’s silky, black hair -- gentle at first but then tightening into a fist to give his head a nasty tug. He twists Tim’s head around to the side and traces a finger around the Red Robin mask on his face. 

"My arm--” Tim complains. “Shit. Let go.” 

“You know everyone in Gotham wants you dead, _Robin_?” Jason snaps back, not letting up one bit. “You picked a dangerous job. One that you’re no where near prepared for. And apparently the Bat’s training protocols have really fallen off over the years cuz you’re weaker than the other ones ever were.”

“Shut up!” Tim says sternly. He’s getting pissed now. His butt cheeks are still red and pulsing from the beating, his suit is destroyed, his cock isn’t at all interested in this kind of play and even though Jason’s obviously is, Tim still isn’t certain that this is entirely an act. The demeaning assessment of his skills hurts him more intimately than expected. Especially coming from his own boyfriend. 

“News flash: Batman doesn’t do a very good job of saving Robins. If you can’t even get out of this--” Jason twists his arms up just a little bit more to make the point and Tim’s face contorts with pain behind the mask. “--then you’re never gonna last as Robin #3.” 

If Tim were Dick, he would somehow dislocate his arms and get out of this terrible position before Jason knew what hit him. Or if he were Jason, he would have the size and ability to get a much larger attacker off of him even at such an intimate distance. But as he is, Tim finds that he can’t get himself up from the mattress with Jason’s hold on him, his weight on him. He struggles angrily for a few moments before he realizes this and gives up. 

Jason doesn’t let anything slide. “You can’t get out can you? Even if you really tried.” 

Tim’s only response is an angry huff. 

_SMACK!!_

Jason let go of his hair and cracked another strike into the bottom curve of his ass where the fleshy part meets his lean thigh. It reverberates up and down his leg and into his hip like lightning and Tim can’t help the embarrassing whine that escapes him unwillingly. “You can’t get out, can you?!” Jason demands, hitting the same spot on the other side. “Tell me if you can’t and I’ll let you go.” 

Tim screws his eyes shut. _Fuck,_ it hurts now. He’ll probably have dark purple bruises all over his butt from this. 

_SMACK!!!_ “Say it!” Jason shouts over Tim’s cry. 

“I can’t!” he shouts back just as loud. “Fuck you! Let me up!” He hates the way that his voice trembles as he says it. A wash of real anger turns his face red beneath the mask as Jason releases the grip on his wrists. However, instead of removing the handcuffs, Jason pulls Tim up from the bed by his shoulders and spins him around to face him. When his butt lands on the edge of the mattress, the sting makes Tim hiss. 

After a moment of observation, Jason gives a dark chuckle, “Awww. Look how red you are. Your face is as red as that ass. Is that why they call you, Red Robin?”

“Fuck you, Jason,” Tim scowls, looking away. “Take the handcuffs off me.” 

“You can suck my dick first,” Jason says casually, making a show of thrusting his hips in his boyfriend’s direction. The boner that Tim felt before is still starkly visible beneath Jason’s jeans. “You’re good at _that_ _,_ at least,” he adds with a lopsided grin. 

Tim isn’t amused though. He finds the insinuation offensive. “Knock it off, Jay.” His voice comes out low and serious. “You’re pissing me off.”

“Truth hurts, huh?”

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Tim scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. Surely Jason doesn’t really mean all of the things he’s saying. 

“Hey-- at least I’m not the delusional one. It’s bad enough Bruce is putting another kid in danger -- but you? He’s got you thinking you’re the fucking Batman or some shit! -- leading the double life and everything! How many hats are you gonna try on before you realize they don’t fit? Little geek.” 

Tim snaps his head up to glare at him, growing more furious by the second. He practically snarls, “Keep looking, Jay, and you’re gonna find me.” 

Jason flashes him a frightening smile, one that might have been sexy if Tim weren’t so upset already. He reaches out to grab Tim by the jaw, having to make a second effort when the younger boy tries to flinch away. When his fingers latch on, Jason dares him, “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do? Huh? Look me up on the computer?” 

Tim’s eyes narrow until they’re nothing but angry slits. 

“Call Daddy? Throw some of that Wayne money at me?” 

Tim seethes out a metered breath, trying his best not to lash back because for whatever reason this is clearly doing something for Jason and it is his birthday and Tim was a pretty shitty boyfriend this morning and…

The feeling of Jason’s finger tips digging painfully into his jawline brings his attention back to the boy in front of him -- on his looming face, just inches away now, saying, “You’re not gonna do shit, Robin. Except get down on your knees and suck my dick. Right?” 

It takes significant effort but Tim manages to make his voice come out tight and steady. “Sure.” They’re definitely going to have to talk about this later but for now he’s determined to move this thing along to something that might feel a little more like sex. 

He sure wishes they’d done their usual get drunk and fuck in the dark routine instead of this. 

Jason releases his jaw and pets his hair almost lovingly. “On your knees, Robin.” 

Trying not to grimace, Tim slides off of the mattress and settles on the floor in front of his boyfriend. He’s careful not to sit down all the way on his heels to avoid agitating his hurt backside. Once he’s settled, Jason unzips his fly and untucks his erection from the boxers beneath. It looks large and veiny from this angle. The feeling of having it shoved in his face like this is so much different than groping around drunk in the dark. Tim blinks at it and leans forward just a hair, very much uncomfortable. With his hands cuffed behind his back, he’ll have to work even harder than usual. 

“Go on,” Jason prompts. He nudges himself in the direction of Tim’s mouth, which is reluctantly opened to accept him. 

Jason tastes mustier and saltier than usual. _Fucking asshole probably hasn’t showered today,_ Tim thinks, grossed out as he runs his tongue up and down the length of his boyfriend’s shaft like he knows he likes. He makes his lips plump and inviting, sliding his head up and down the length with a clear purpose. 

“Mmm I know you’re eager, baby bird, but slow down a little,” Jason scolds him through a lusty moan. “You’d better get me nice and hard and wet for your ass.”

_My ass?_ Tim isn’t in any mood to be penetrated right now. He’s still mad and not even a little hard, not to mention the pain from his spanking. But he reminds himself that Jason very clearly wanted to fuck him since the beginning. That was the plan and he agreed. So he focuses on the blowjob instead of his indignation and tries to get aroused. 

He thinks about the last time he sucked his boyfriend off. They were drunk on pumpkin flavored beer that Dick bought for him. They’d just finished playing two straight hours of Super Smash Bros (which Tim always won) and they were snuggled up underneath a pile of blankets. He remembers that Jason said, “I love you, Timmy,” after he came. And he remembers how those words felt even better than the orgasm. 

“Yeah, see? This is what you should be spending your time on. Not this Robin shit,” Jason is saying, talking down at him while he rocks his hips forward for more, his balls bumping into Tim’s chin awkwardly. “This is what you’re really good at.”

He would have appreciated the praise if it hadn’t been preceded by ten minutes of insults. 

It doesn’t take long after that for Jason to start leaking precum onto Tim’s tongue. He’s getting close. One more perfect tug and Jason shoves him off with a hand on his forehead. The younger boy stumbles backward, landing on his sore ass with a grunt. “Fuck, Timmy I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” Jason says , sounding huskier than ever. “You did that too good. Get on the bed.” 

Tim struggles to get up and get settled on the mattress without agitating his bruises. All the while, Jason is stalking around, getting a cigarette lit and taking a few puffs to calm himself down, which is more alarming to Tim than anything else. 

“Jay…” he starts, unsure of how to express his swirling emotions. The top half of his suit is clinging to his body in weird places without the tension of the lower half to keep things in place, and the mask is getting uncomfortably sweaty. _Let’s start with that._ “Can you take the rest of this off?”

“Not yet.” Jason gives him a serious look from halfway across the room. He blows out a cloud of creamy smoke before saying, “You know how long I’ve wanted to fuck this new Robin prick?” 

Tim swallows thickly. He tries to hold his boyfriend’s lusty gaze but there’s something so aggressive in there that he has to look away. 

After a minute, Jason crosses the space between them to come to the bed. The added weight when he sits down on the edge of the mattress makes Tim bounce a little. The hand without the cigarette gives Tim’s body a few shoves to roll him over on his stomach. “You want me to warm you up a little bit first, birdie boy?” 

_Of course,_ Tim thinks. He’s completely unprepared. What kind of question is that? “Yeah.” 

“Alright. I’ll go easy on you. Not that anyone else in this city would.” The hand with the cigarette stretches out over the back of Tim’s head again, pushing the side of his face into the mattress while Jason’s free hand starts rubbing in the cleft of his ass. “You can’t imagine how many freaks run around this city hunting Robin’s for sport.” 

_Why is he talking like this?_ Tim wonders, starting to feel cold as he hears Jason spitting on his fingers. Of course, Tim knows all of this already. Being Robin is a very dangerous mantle to carry, as is everything associated with Batman in this city. Jason’s death was enough to remind the whole world of that… How is this sex talk?

A finger tip presses inside of his hole. It’s less gentle than usual and the absence of lube makes it pull at his rim uncomfortably. Why isn’t he using lube? Tim knows that there’s a bottle not five feet away in the nightstand. Jason jabs his whole finger inside and it makes Tim’s breath stall in his chest. When it pulls it out too fast, Tim gasps. 

“Are you scared of me?” 

“What?” Tim croaks. 

“You scared of me, baby bird?” Jason chuckles darkly and starts working in a second finger beside the first despite a whine from Tim. “You shouldn’t be scared of me. I’m one of the good guys. There are really bad people in Gotham who would do you worse. Trust me.” 

The words only serve to make Tim more nervous than he already was. The place where Jason’s fingers are digging into him is burning something fierce. “Use lube, babe, please.” The fingers pull out abruptly and are immediately replaced with the tip of Jason’s cock. It’s wet with precum and he spreads the wetness around his boyfriend’s rim, pushing up against the tenseness in a circular motion, trying to press inside. The minimal amount of slick serves to get the tip inside but not much else. Another press and Tim moans terribly. “Babe!” 

“Alright, fuck.” With a string of curses, Jason pulls out and dips off the bed to retrieve the lube.

The sound of the cap flicking open makes some of the tension melt out of Tim’s shoulders. _Thank god_ _._ But then again, Jason would never really fuck him like _that_ _,_ would he? 

“Here you go, you spoiled little bitch,” Jason spits, dribbling the lube straight out of the bottle into the cleft of Tim’s ass. It’s cold and the sensation makes him flinch. Jason swipes his cock up and down through the wetness a few times before fully forcing himself into Tim’s hole without any real warning. He’s so tight that they stick together for a few seconds before Jason can pull back at all. Tim balls his bound hands into fists, fighting back the urge to cry at the disturbing sensation of Jason stabbing around inside of him to make space. His insides are hardly accommodating at all. “Mmmm yeah. I always knew this Robin would be a real tight ass.” Jason shoves in as deep as he can and rolls his hips around gratuitously before sliding out and yanking Tim up onto his knees with a harsh grip on the shoulder. 

Both kneeling upright on the bed, Jason fills the spaces behind Tim’s body in a second, holding him close. He wraps an arm around his neck, the arm with the cigarette, and draws it to his lips, taking a puff just an inch from Tim’s right ear. With the other hand, he feeds his length back inside of Tim’s ass, jostling past any resistance. 

“Don’t tell me you’re not enjoying this,” Jason chides. He reaches around Tim’s hip with the other hand to tug on his mostly soft cock. “Come on. Everyone knows Robin’s a cock slut.” 

The thought of that reputation makes Tim grimace. It’s probably true, though, considering Dick’s time as Robin. No one cared much to learn the difference between them all. 

His thoughts scatter when Jason picks up the pace from both sides -- starting to pound his ass with a purpose while the other hand begins to stroke his cock. Jason’s pubic bone crashing into his bruised ass over and over is painful, as is the sloppy way that he’s fucking him. But the hand feels good. 

He closes his eyes to think about that time the other night, when it was sweet and Jason made him feel so loved and so special. Before long his cock is stiffening in his boyfriend’s hand. 

“There you go. That’s the Robin I was promised,” Jason says encouragingly, but his voice still has a mean bite to it. “A pathetic little cockwhore in a mask. Too fucking easy to manhandle you, kid.” 

“Jason!” he breathes, stung. At that moment, the hot ember from Jason’s cigarette falls, singeing his chest all the way down. “Ow!” 

As if his cry is an invitation, Jason doubles the intensity then, chasing an orgasm at Robin’s expense. He forces Tim’s upper body back down onto the bed but keeps his hips hiked up at an easy angle for abuse. Every thrust rocks Tim’s entire frame, pushing his face into the mattress until he’s fighting back tears. 

_He’s being so rough…_ Tim bites his lip to stifle his pained cries but every thrust forces sharp huffs of air from his lungs anyway, like dry sobs that he can’t control. His cheeks are flaming red and his eyes are stinging-- 

“Promise me you’re not gonna be Bruce’s little bitch anymore, Tim,” Jason grunts over him, each word accentuated with a vicious, snapping fuck. 

Tim doesn’t get this. He wants it nicer than this. What is this?! When he talks the tears start to wet his Robin mask at last. “I’m not!” 

“You’re _not_ gonna be his lap dog anymore. Right? You’re gonna think for yourself?” The tone of Jason’s voice betrays that he’s seconds away from cumming. 

“I do -- I’m... I’m not.” A particularly hard, final jab as Jason cums in his ass gets a real sob out of Tim, but Jason doesn’t hear it over his orgasmic moan. His hips stutter against his boyfriend’s abused bum as he pours gush after gush of milky seed into his insides. 

Satiated, Jason’s cock slows and then stills inside of him, and after a moment where nothing can be heard but their ragged breathing, he pulls out. Tim flattens out on his stomach immediately, melting into the mattress. He is crying softly, trying to stop with bitten lips and clipped breaths. 

“Shit.”

Recognizing that Tim is actually crying, Jason puts a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Timmy.” He sounds unsure now that the younger boy is crying openly. “It’s alright. Come here.” He’s awkward trying to roll Tim over. The way his hands are bound together makes his shoulder and elbows bend up strangely when he turns, so Jason ends up just taking the handcuffs off first. 

By the time the metal cuffs are discarded, Tim has completely stopped crying. The only evidence left behind is a bit of wetness around the eyes of his mask. Jason peels it off of his face and tosses it aside -- but barefaced, Tim won’t look him in the eye. 

“Shit, Timmy,” Jason groans. He sounds wrecked in the aftermath of his orgasm, but the guilt of making his boyfriend cry creeps into his tone as well. “I’m sorry.” He tries to pull Tim up into an embrace but Tim is stiff in his arms and the cigarette nearly burns him again, making him flinch. “Fuck. Sorry.” Jason rises to put the cigarette out in the ashtray on the nightstand. By the time he comes back Tim is already up and off to the bathroom to redress. 

“Tim!”

Tim ignores his boyfriend’s concerned voice and locks himself in the bathroom. He’s eager to get the remnants of his ruined suit off and change back into real clothes. _What a complete mess ,_ he thinks bitterly, catching a glimpse of his teary face in the mirror. He hates that he cried over that. His bum is still sore and his legs are spattered with sweat, lube, and dribbles of Jason’s cum. The rim is burning something fierce, but none of that is enough to make him cry. Or at least, it shouldn’t be, he thinks. 

There’s a knocking at the bathroom door. Jason. “Come back, Timmy. I’m not done with you,” he says. His voice is sweet and inviting now, like he’s alluring Tim back into a lover’s arms for some real pleasure, but Tim isn’t anywhere near the right mood. He ignores him, getting redressed in his daily clothes in a minute. Another look in the mirror shows how tousled his hair is from all the pulling, so he takes the time to wash his face and slick back his hair before coming out. 

Jason is waiting for him in the hallway. “Why’d you get dressed, kid?”

“I gotta go,” Tim says flatly, pushing past his boyfriend to get his shoes. 

“Go?” Jason repeats. His brows flicker over with concern. “Go where? It’s only eight o’clock.” He follows Tim closely as he bends down to get his shoes on and then heads for the door. “Tim,” Jason says sternly as Tim goes to open the apartment door. He grabs him by the arm, forcing a halt. “I’m sorry. Are you okay? I wasn’t done...I mean...Do we need to talk about this?” 

Tim looks wearily up at him and sighs. He feels silly for crying but he also feels hurt and angry, and the mixture of those emotions makes his cheeks red with embarrassment. He needs to get out of here. “I’m fine. Happy birthday,” he says softly. 

Jason stares at him, clearly not believing that all is well. But he knows well enough to let Tim go when he needs his space. “Alright. Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? We’re gonna talk about this.” 

“Sure.” 

Jason looks worried as he bends down to plant a kiss on Tim’s forehead. Then he lets go of the younger boy’s arm and lets him walk away.

**Author's Note:**

> Typically I do prefer a feistier, more obviously competent Tim. but I'm just really smitten with this idea that Jason is his first love and he's completely disarmed by that. 
> 
> Let me know what you're thinking and feeling in the comments ❤️


End file.
